When someone asks me about my OCD, I tend to list the criteria for the disorder, and then I tend to explain what it's like for me without going into too much personal detail. I should stop the explanation there, but I never do. I usually feel the need to hurriedly add something like, "It's totally not as bad as I made it sound" or "I know it's not as bad as it could be". In other words, I tend to downplay my mental health condition and the impact it has had on my life. My therapist has even pointed out that I do this during my weekly sessions.
I don't downplay my OCD because I think having OCD isn't actually that bad. I downplay it because I feel guilty if I don't. People can't physically see my OCD, and I'm still a high-functioning person. That makes me feel like, sometimes, I shouldn't say anything about my own suffering because I'm not suffering as badly as I could be. Sort of like, I know people have it worse, so I don't need to lump my "invisible" mental health condition in with those that are physically suffering.
The guilt and the idea that I have to downplay my mental suffering comes from the mental health stigma. The mental health stigma tells us all that mental health conditions "aren't that bad" or that mental health conditions are less than more visible health conditions.
Here's the thing: suffering is still suffering, no matter what form it takes. All forms of suffering need to be recognized and treated with compassion so proper care can be implemented. A sick brain is still a sick organ in your body that deserves the same level of respect that you would give a broken arm or a heart condition. A sick brain can take away a life just like any other untreated health condition.
Perhaps the most important reason we all shouldn't downplay our mental health condition is because it makes light of our victory. There were points in my life (both during my struggle with undiagnosed and untreated OCD and for a bit after diagnosis) that I doubted my ability to fight and win against my own mind, and it was terrifying. But I'm still here, and I'm in a much healthier, more positive place. By downplaying my mental health condition and making sure I add, "It's totally not that bad", I'm making it seem like I didn't fight like hell, with everything I had, every single day, for all that time to survive and get to this healthier place.
I'll end with this: If someone is dealing with a mental health condition, their suffering is not less than someone else's suffering with a physical condition. Suffering is still suffering and it deserves recognition, respect, compassion, and proper care. If you're managing a mental health condition and you're trying, and you're still here don't you dare take away your own victory by downplaying the struggle with your mental health condition.
Wednesday, February 28, 2018
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Is This Who I Am?
I have struggled with a mental health condition for my entire adult life. My OCD symptoms hit fast and hard in my last semester of my senior year of high school, and then I just spiraled with an out of control mental health condition for the next six years without treatment. As a result of that, while everyone in college was figuring out who they were and what they wanted, I was literally just trying to survive day-to-day life and hide my symptoms instead of trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted for my life. I just tried to be a who I thought I HAD TO be in order to prove everything my mental illness told me was wrong. (Hint: that never works because your mental health condition will feel like it out-logics everything you think or do.)
I was reflecting on how I've changed and how my life has improved since I entered treatment a couple of years ago, and I just had to sit there sort of in awe for a moment. I felt like everything had changed. My opinions, my thoughts, my political stance, my goals in life, what makes me happy, my hopes and dreams, what I looked for in friends and a partner...all of it had changed in the last couple of years since I had gotten my mental health to a more stable place. I noticed that I even dressed differently because my clothing style was no longer dependent on making sure I projected this "good" image (which, in my mind, meant that I couldn't dress in the way I wanted to dress because I like to wear a lot of black, and that might lead people to think that I was dark on the inside, like my outside projected. I couldn't give other people any reason to question my "goodness" while I was also questioning the same thing. I know that sounds crazy, but, hey, mental illness never makes sense.). Looking back at the girl from a couple of years ago, I didn't recognize her, and as I thought about her, I kept thinking, "That doesn't feel like me..."
I was talking to my mom about this the other night. I had gone on this long explanation about why I felt and thought the way I did now on a certain topic. I dove really deep with my explanation, and then, once I realized how different I sounded from even just a year ago, I stopped and looked at her for a second. I asked her, somewhat jokingly, "Is this who I am now?" Later that was followed up with a more serious question, "So, what..? I've gotten my mental health under control, and now I'm figuring out who I really am?" My mom was just like, "Apparently."
At some point I stopped thinking, "My OCD tells me this, so I have to prove it wrong by choosing this option, even if I don't feel like myself." Instead, at some point during my course of getting well and healing, I started to think, "This option would make me happy, let's go with that." The focus shifted from me trying to prove myself to my funky brain to me just trying to be happy. I even got shamed by a lady at a party once for stating an opinion, and I didn't feel like a bad person because I didn't have anything to prove to her about what a good person I was. I didn't even care if she thought I was a bad person because I knew I wasn't a bad person in that moment. I wasn't even motivated by my OCD to concede and change my opinion just so I could be perceived differently.
I was struck by the realization the other day that I can literally just make choices (within reason) that make me happy and that will be what I wanted long term. I don't have to prove how "good" I am with every single decision that I make so that I can make up for my bad OCD thoughts. (Example: I don't have to prove I'm a good person by choosing a career that directly helps people like I thought I did. Instead, I can write for a living because I enjoy it and it makes me happy.) As a result, stable, happier Megan seems to be quite different from OCD Megan.
I'll end with this: Figuring out who you are is hard for the average person, but it can be even harder for a person with a mental health condition. The first step is treatment for your mental health condition. It can take a long time to get out of survival mode enough to find yourself, and there is no shame in figuring things out later. We're only humans and we're always a work in progress.
I was reflecting on how I've changed and how my life has improved since I entered treatment a couple of years ago, and I just had to sit there sort of in awe for a moment. I felt like everything had changed. My opinions, my thoughts, my political stance, my goals in life, what makes me happy, my hopes and dreams, what I looked for in friends and a partner...all of it had changed in the last couple of years since I had gotten my mental health to a more stable place. I noticed that I even dressed differently because my clothing style was no longer dependent on making sure I projected this "good" image (which, in my mind, meant that I couldn't dress in the way I wanted to dress because I like to wear a lot of black, and that might lead people to think that I was dark on the inside, like my outside projected. I couldn't give other people any reason to question my "goodness" while I was also questioning the same thing. I know that sounds crazy, but, hey, mental illness never makes sense.). Looking back at the girl from a couple of years ago, I didn't recognize her, and as I thought about her, I kept thinking, "That doesn't feel like me..."
I was talking to my mom about this the other night. I had gone on this long explanation about why I felt and thought the way I did now on a certain topic. I dove really deep with my explanation, and then, once I realized how different I sounded from even just a year ago, I stopped and looked at her for a second. I asked her, somewhat jokingly, "Is this who I am now?" Later that was followed up with a more serious question, "So, what..? I've gotten my mental health under control, and now I'm figuring out who I really am?" My mom was just like, "Apparently."
At some point I stopped thinking, "My OCD tells me this, so I have to prove it wrong by choosing this option, even if I don't feel like myself." Instead, at some point during my course of getting well and healing, I started to think, "This option would make me happy, let's go with that." The focus shifted from me trying to prove myself to my funky brain to me just trying to be happy. I even got shamed by a lady at a party once for stating an opinion, and I didn't feel like a bad person because I didn't have anything to prove to her about what a good person I was. I didn't even care if she thought I was a bad person because I knew I wasn't a bad person in that moment. I wasn't even motivated by my OCD to concede and change my opinion just so I could be perceived differently.
I was struck by the realization the other day that I can literally just make choices (within reason) that make me happy and that will be what I wanted long term. I don't have to prove how "good" I am with every single decision that I make so that I can make up for my bad OCD thoughts. (Example: I don't have to prove I'm a good person by choosing a career that directly helps people like I thought I did. Instead, I can write for a living because I enjoy it and it makes me happy.) As a result, stable, happier Megan seems to be quite different from OCD Megan.
I'll end with this: Figuring out who you are is hard for the average person, but it can be even harder for a person with a mental health condition. The first step is treatment for your mental health condition. It can take a long time to get out of survival mode enough to find yourself, and there is no shame in figuring things out later. We're only humans and we're always a work in progress.
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